I was traumatised by a dentist in the public service when I was little. She was rough and mean, and must have thought I was being a wimp like other patients but no, I had a tiny mouth and I was whimpering because she'd ripped the left side of my lips open. After that day, I refused to go back to the dentist until I had money to pay for a good one (we were poor so free was the only option). It wasn't until a decade later when I had my first full-time job that I went to a posh dentist in Melbourne for a check-up. Luckily I didn't need much work apart from replacing a filling and good old clean.